


Wings of The Damned

by Moonlit_Fics



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Wing Grooming, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-02 12:38:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20276044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonlit_Fics/pseuds/Moonlit_Fics
Summary: “You’ve been tense, more so than usual. I noticed it was focused in your shoulders, so I  thought I could help, check your wings” He muttered nonchalantly. The prince of hell growled.“Absolutely not.”(spoiler: they absolutely do)





	Wings of The Damned

Beelzebub looked tense. Well, more so than usual. The small demon always seemed high-strung when they had business in Heaven, but recently they'd been getting progressively more irritable and it had been driving Gabriel up the wall. He wasn’t necessarily worried about the demon, obviously. More about the fact that they seemed too tense to be diplomatic, and refused to be cooperative. 

Gabriel grit his teeth as another meeting with the disgruntled prince of hell concluded. He waited for the other angels to leave before he addressed Beelzebub. 

“Come to my office. We need to talk” he stated firmly, earning a buzzing growl from the short prince. 

“You don’t have any authority over me. Don’t order me around” they hissed, but still gestured to the door for Gabriel to lead the way. 

Now it’s important to note that demons and angels have very different ideas of office rooms for their elite. Beelzebub’s office, for example, was dark, lit by a few oil lamps. There was a beautiful and dark (and rickety) desk, and beyond it was their throne. All together it wasn’t big, but certainly was nice. 

However, in the head offices in Heaven, the offices are quite different. The one Beelzebub was entering now, for example, was white with silver floors, with sparse, mostly silver furniture.

Naturally, even without the open sores and flies around them, Beelzebub was out of place in the immaculate room. Nevertheless, Gabriel led them to the window, where two chairs were set up- a normal chair, and a low-backed chair in front of it. Beelzebub raised an eyebrow as Gabriel took the chair in the back and motioned for Beelzebub to take the chair in front of him.

“You think I’m going to turn my back to an archangel?” They drawled, but sighed and dropped into the chair at the look Gabriel gave them. The archangel snapped and Beelzebub’s jacket and shirt were folded neatly on the desk, leaving them in their undershirt. Gabriel started speaking before they could say anything.

“You’ve been tense, more so than usual. I noticed it was focused in your shoulders, so I thought I could help, check your wings” He muttered nonchalantly. The prince of hell growled.

“Absolutely not. I’m not taking them out” They insisted, and Gabriel nodded. 

“I figured as much, but did you know how our wings stay in the celestial plane? There's a little muscle on the back of our corporations. And if you press it just right…” 

His hand jabbed into Beelzebub’s shoulder, and the lights flickered as their wings came into view. They weren’t what Gabriel expected.

For such a small being, their wings spanned from wall to wall- or at least, they had at some point. They seemed to have been an easily 50 ft wingspan, an impressive width. Of course, that would be if half their right wing wasn’t missing. It was quiet for a moment as they both took in what had just happened. Beelzebub recovered first, stretching their wings out fully in a threatening manner. 

“No one is to hear about this. Understood?” They snapped, a mechanical sounding buzz erupting from their throat. Gabriel nodded, then spoke when he realized the prince of hell couldn’t see him. 

“Of course. This stays strictly between us as long as Heaven and Hell can keep this ‘truce’ going” He promised, getting a curt nod in return. 

“Lovely. Now what’s the reasoning for this?”

“Like I said, you’ve been stressed and it’s getting in the way of business. It’s affecting how you work and it’s annoying. Thus, I’m fixing it” Gabriel muttered, using a miracle to summon a washcloth and some water. Beelzebub stretched their wings all the way out with a pained noise, and it was quickly apparent why. There had clearly been several injuries to these wings that Beelzebub never got healed. There were many scars, inflamed in a way that could only be caused by a holy blade on demon skin. They clearly had been left to heal on their own. Gabriel wet the washcloth and started to clean their wings.

The cold cloth made The demon flinch, but they tried to keep their wings still as old blood and dirt was carefully sponged off.

“When was the last time you cleaned your wings?”  
Gabriel muttered. He didn’t expect an answer, but he certainly wasn’t expecting the answer he got.

“Before I fell. They hurt too much after, then I just didn’t want to see them. Doesn’t matter though, I get on fine without them”

Gabriel’s frown deepened. “And when you molt?”

“I don’t. Demonic miracle, keeps the feathers in. Doesn’t hurt much”

The archangel just sighed, moving on to a particularly bad spot. A group of feathers were congealed together by 6,000 year old blood. He really hadn’t wanted to do this but… 

Gabriel grabbed a handful of feathers and pulled. 

The prince of hell shrieked, pulling their wings close and looking at Gabriel with an angry, horrified expression. 

“The fuck was that?!”

“There wasn’t any hope for these. You left blood on your wings so long that it’s basically part of your wings” he explained, running a washcloth over the now-bleeding follicles. New feathers would grow in, eventually. It wasn’t a big deal. He started righting the ruffled feathers around the area.

“You fucking brute”

“You’re the one who left a blood clot on your wing for thousands of years. I keep my wings pristine, as any self-respecting being should.” Gabriel retorted, pulling a few more unsalvageable feathers. Beelzebub just growled.

Gabriel continues with the left wing for far too long, in the demons opinion. When he was done, each feather was glossy and clean. The wing was pristine other than the bare spots where feathers were pulled. They hated to admit it, but the wing felt lighter now that it had been stretched and cleaned. 

Gabriel silently moved to the other one. This one was clearly in worse shape. There was much more blood on this one, likely from the injury that had resulted in the loss of half the wing. The angel decided to save that for last. He worked his way up from the shoulder blade, washing and combing away the dried blood calmly, until he reached the end of the wing, when he finally took a close look at it.

Blood and debris caked the end of the wing in a way that seemed almost impossible. Of course 6000 years of buildup would do that. Beelzebub looked down. 

“Stop gawking. Get it off or let me leave” they snapped, knocking the archangel from his thoughts. He once again took in the wing, and miracled a palette knife. 

“Stretch your wing out straight, it’ll help” Gabriel suggested, a suggestion Beelzebub hesitantly took, stretching it far as it could go. 

Gabriel muttered a quick ‘thank you’, holding the arching bone of the top of the wing to keep Beelzebub from moving. The palette knife tip slowly disappeared under the blood and dirt, and Gabriel flicked his wrist. A chunk of mud came off. He carefully followed the curve of the wing to get it all off, washing away what was left behind after a chunk fell off. It was long and grueling, and several more feathers were pulled before the wing was clean. It took hours before Gabriel stepped back and took in Beelzebubs clean wings. Even the demon’s posture changed, going from a pained slouch to a more relaxed downturn of their shoulders. Gabriel had done perfectly on the wings, and he was proud of how they turned out.

That was the only reason he was slightly upset to see Beelzebub put them away and put their jacket and shirt back on. 

“You better let yourself molt. If you don’t, I’ll pull your feather out until you have to” Gabriel threatened. “And I expect to talk to you monthly to check your wings. I am not going to be seen with you while your wings look the way they did”

“No one can see my wings”

“But I’d know, and that’d be enough” he insisted. Beelzebub groaned. 

“Fine. You tell anyone this happened, though? I’ll torch you with hellfire myself.” 

He nodded, and there was a small pause before Beelzebub said anything else.  
“And don’t tell anyone I said this but…. Thank…. ugh, thank you” the snapped, like the word tasted rotten in their mouth.

“You’re welcome Beelzebub. I’ll see you at the next meeting”

The prince of hell nodded, the floor turning to magma under their feet and pulling them back to hell.

Gabriel, for once, couldn’t find it in himself to care about the burning smell left behind.


End file.
